This is War
by Debra Dreamer
Summary: After World War 3 destroyed most of human life, mankind had fallen into a state of peace. That is until people start to disagree. The story of the beginning of the end. Contains Death Note and Hetalia characters along with OCs
1. Preface

"I used to rule the world...  
Seas would rise when I gave the word"  
-Coldplay, Viva la Vida

She sighed as she locked the door to her room that night, trapping herself in that dark room she had shared so many sleepless nights with. She pulls off her black cap decorated with her symbols and sets it on the old dresser in front of the mirror, the ever judging mirror. What she sees disgusts her, the young beautiful women with the dead eyes that gleamed every time she ended a life. There was another execution going on, one she refused to carry out. The killing was too much, too much for her guilt to handle. Her fingers curled forward and her chewed up nails dug deep into her flesh, probably leaving crescent shape marks on her skin. Her jaw tightened as her head drop down and she breathing grew ragged and forced as she tried to steady herself. The sounds of the man to be executed's screams almost seemed to reach her ears even though it was being performed underground far from her room.  
Her thoughts raced and old memories piled up in her thoughts. Memories of blood and sadistic laughter and the sweet, sweet smell of alcohol and cigarettes. Memories of cold nights and frozen tears on her cheeks. Memories of explosions and screams. Memories of the hot sun and a warm smile. Memories of the blood being spilled over the dusty ground and a scream in her throat. And the memories of frostbite, the rise to power and the fall of those around her. The dark past was always there in her mind no matter how much she occupied her mind with. The death and gore and the sound of guns haunted every sleepless night, every dark dream, every time she looked into her victim's soon to be dead eyes.

She hesitantly rose from her slouch and bite her soft lip with her sharp teeth and walked across the wooden floor to her bed for two. She pretty much instantly collapsed onto the soft fabric laced with memories of insomnia and a few good memories with the only man you could look at the monster she was and still willingly hold her close at night. Perhaps even the only man who would volunteer to kill in her place and be happy about it. _He's always happy... or so he makes it look..._ She loved him, she really did but still... sometimes it felt like she was alone, no matter how many times they'd be there to comfort her. Her husband and her comrades they were the only ones who got the see the world's all so powerful leader weakened beyond her mental capacities. All the citizens would never get the chance to see the feared ruler shed a single tear or seem slightly off from her cold, fearless facade.

And they feared her. They feared and resented her with all their hearts, in fact they had no idea who she was. All they knew was that one of the countries representatives hand picked by their leader was actually their leader. All the other representatives pledged on their lives and the life of another that they would never reveal just who she was.

_Fools... if they knew what was best they'd kill me now and put me out of my tormented pleasure..._  
The door creaked open as she buried her pale face into the soft pillow that smelt strongly of ash and gunpowder. Footsteps followed the noise and the mattress moved as someone sat themselves down beside her. A hand slowly moved up and down her back trying feebly to comfort her, trying to get her to stop helplessly releasing those strangled sobs into the pillow.

"One day..." She whispered to the man stroking her back. "One day they're going to realize just what I did and just who I am."  
He nodded and looked somberly at her.  
A weak laugh escaped her mouth. "One day the war will start again. One day I'll die just like the oh so great Lord Gilbert did. And one day I'll have to kill so I won't repeat his mistakes..." She was rambling, her words making much but also little sense. Another strangled cry escaped her mouth. "Why can't they just listen? I wouldn't have to kill them if they would just listen to me!"

"I know," He responded softly.

"Why..." She sighed and looked up into her husband's eyes. "Why did it have to be me?" She wondered out loud.

After the Third World War, the nuclear war, had left most of the population dead, humanity began to rebuild. Peace took over and eventually the world was back to a normal state. Many years of hardship paid off and finally life could go back to a normal routine. However, people knew that the world needed to be united to prevent another disaster, they called it Project Pangaea. People began to disagree on how to keep the world governed and it came down to the century old fight, Democracy or Communism and the world was divided. Countries fought dirty and violently. In desperate states they began drafting even child to act as soldiers and bodies in mass graves and it seemed no side could win. Brother and brother facing off in fights... it was madness. A bitter twenty year long madness that consumed the globe.

"Why did I get drafted in that damned war?"


	2. Chapter 1

"A warning to the people,  
The good and the evil,  
This is war"  
-30 Seconds to Mars, This is War

Her name was Eliza; her last name held no significance and it never would so it will be dropped. She was a very small girl, her waistline wasn't underfed yet it was never full either. Her face used to be sweet but now always seemed to look strained, her large blue eyes dull and full with despair, sometimes covered by her crookedly cut black hair. Her skin was pale and slightly colored by the warm southern California sun that did nothing to erase the bags under her eyes from many sleepless nights. She dressed freely in a tattered denim jacket and baggy cargo pants ending in her dull, unpolished black boots. She was hovering around age fifteen. Currently she was with the rest of her group, the sun beating down on them mercilessly and showing them the full extent of their fate. This was a group of children soldiers drafted to fight against intruders on American soil. Eliza remembered the feeling of terror as she got that letter in the mail a year ago that ordered that she was to fight in the war that started when she was only five years old, the war that already took her father and older brother.

She sighed as she looked at the can of potatoes, the squad lead, Alfred Jones, had told her to go through the supplies they had left from the last supply drop that had almost gotten them killed. Alfred was pretty young himself, but it was normal for children soldiers to be led by someone that wasn't quite an adult yet. The can of potatoes was set down and her mind drifted. She was part of squad C-15, and she was sure that the big guys that controlled the wobbly government of what used to be a greater America had long since forgotten them since the last supply drop had been a little over a month ago, meaning supplies were dangerously low. The clearing outside of their hovel of a hideout was full of the children, each doing tasks assigned by the eighteen-year-old leader.

While Eliza was going though supplies, a young man with red-brown hair was going through a laptop that was rather old compared to most technology these days. His name was Mail Jeevas, and he was the fifteen-year-old tech whiz of the little group they had. He wore a pair of goggles over his eyes and was being watched by Alfred Jones himself.

Alfred Jones was the pure definition of a patriot in every way possible and he seemed to possess an aura that just screamed "hero". Dusty blond locks covered the top of his head and he wore glasses over his shining baby blue eyes and usually had a large, cheerful smile across his face. Eliza sometimes found the boy given the title of leader in this little group rather obnoxious and a bit too happy-go-lucky for her liking but at times his cheerful demeanor was rather comforting when things got gloomy and tense.

Mail Jeevas caught her looking and smiled at her, his smile warm and relaxing, Mail Jeevas could be summed up in one word: indifferent. Mail was probably the last one would ever form an opinion on anything really expect for saying that this whole war "sucked" but he wouldn't go into the politics on exactly how ridiculous the whole thing was. Eliza gave a really small smile back and went back to counting supplies.

She found this war so ridiculous it began to be infuriating. She hating that people wanted to unite the world to prevent more war and yet that only caused a long, bloody war that had been going on for ten years now and wasn't anywhere near stopping. Already the United States of America was falling behind and was resorting to desperate measures, including sending children out to die.

They had twelve cans of food left. She knew it wouldn't last them nearly long enough and she knew they'd have to find another way to get food.

"There's twelve cans left, Alfred," she said loud enough for Alfred to hear.

"Only twelve?" asked a long-haired blond boy by the name of Mihael Keehl. Mihael was very hot-headed and looked much like a female with his long hair and sweet blue eyes. His deep voice, however, ruined the picture.

"Yeah," she mumbled to the sixteen-year-old boy.

"That sucks," he mumbled. The girl beside him, Alissa Burnside, nodded in agreement.

"That means we'll have to get more unless another plane drops more," she said. Alissa was also fifteen and one of the youngest in the group. Her hair was a medium tone of brown and her eyes were the color of melted chocolate which her and Mihael seemed to be rather fond of and would often fight over whenever they found a bit in the supply crates.

Alfred walked over and double counted the can just in case Eliza screwed up. This irritated her for a couple of reasons. One, she had counted them three times in case of it, two, she hated how Alfred always gave her counting jobs even though she had told him over and over that she couldn't count very good, and three, she couldn't stand how Alfred always felt the need to check over each of their actions like some over protective older brother. The word older brother always made her heart clench as it would bring back memories of her own brother who was now buried in ditch somewhere.

"Dude, there's only eleven cans here," Alfred mused. Eliza's cheeks were colored in with pink out of embarrassment.

"You know she can't count for shit," Mihael remarked only to be punched in the arm by Alissa.

"Damn…" She muttered, feeling terrible over making an error.

Alfred laughed his loud, booming laugh. "It's alright dude, everyone screws up." He patted her back, smiling.

"Yeah… it's okay," Mumbled another member of the group. This boy was Alfred's younger brother, Matthew Williams. Matthew was adopted from Canada and was only a few months younger than his older, American brother. The two looked very similar but Matthew had violet eyes and a curly piece of hair that hung down into his face. Personality wise the two were opposites. While Alfred was loud and thrived off hearing himself talk, Matthew was quiet, outspoken and never really said much. The two brothers seemed to care a lot about each other and Alfred almost seemed to make sure that when danger was involved that his brother would get the safest job possible.

"So we have eleven cans and six people… dude that kind of sucks," Alfred mused. "Alright dudes, we'll have to get more food!" He smiled.

"The big question there is how," Mihael responded.

"Well, Mail here had just found out where those Nazi bastards are," Alfred said, pronouncing Mail's name as "male".

"Um… It's pronounced 'mile'," Mail mumbled.

"Nazis?" Eliza scoffed. "This isn't World War Two, Alfred…"

"Whatever, either way they're the bad guys and we're gonna totally take their supplies."

The kids fell silent.

"Are you nuts?" Mihael finally exploded. "We'll get killed!"

"Would you rather starve?" Alissa asked him firmly.

"Of course not, but…" Mihael sighed. "Since when are you on his side?"

"Well, he is our leader…" Alissa mumbled.

"Yeah, and as your leader it's an order!" Alfred smiled.

"This whack-job is going to get us killed…" Mihael muttered under his breath. However, he knew that Alfred had done equally dangerous things and got his group through it without losing any soldiers, he almost seemed to be good at leading when it came to the make-it-or-break-it part of the job. Alfred really did care a lot about these kids and would go to the ends of the earth to make sure they all saw the end of the war.

But he knew that, along with succeeding in this mission, was highly unlikely.


	3. Chapter 2

"Do you know what's worth fighting for  
If it's not worth dying for?"  
-Green Day, 21 Guns

The night had taken over the desert sky with its colors of blue and purple with the sparkle of the silver and gold of the twinkling stars overhead. Eliza sat on the sandy earth, eyes gazing up at the twinkling balls of gas millions of miles away from her. She wondered briefly if it would be childish of her to wish on one, just once. As a child she had heard countless stories about people's wishes actually coming true because they wished on such a thing. These ideas were absolute nonsense but still, what if luck really did still exist? A very small smile appeared on the girl's lips as she searched the sky for a bright star to make a childish wish on, personally she found nothing wrong with enjoying the little things out here. Her blue gaze travelled across the picture perfect sky and eventually settled on a large, bright, gleaming ball in the painted sky. She heard somewhere a long time ago that sometimes you could see Venus, well it was only a year ago but it seemed like many more. Maybe this was Venus, the planet of love or maybe it was the North Star. Perhaps if she followed that star, like in all the stories, she'd up back home with her mom and younger sister waiting with open arms. Maybe she could visit her Swiss friend Vash again like she used to all the time. Maybe there'd be warm found that didn't come out of a can and a warm bed with the feel of her cat snuggled up next to her like the good days before she received that accursed letter. A single tear rolled down her face and she shook away such childish thoughts. She'd die out there alone; starvation, dehydration, heat, enemy soldiers, or some wild animal would end her before the second day by herself. She wiped away the tear with the rough sleeve of her jacket and forced up the dam walls to keep the others from flowing. She was too old mentally to cry. She may have only been fifteen but her hands were already stained with the blood of enemy soldiers and death had been spilled in front of those wide, child-like eyes many times. All nasty thoughts were shoved away and she occupied her thoughts with the notion of wishing on this star.

With her head still tilted in the direction of her star she closed her eyes and began to let a bit of childhood naivety flood into her thoughts. _I wish that we all can survive the raid in the morning and that we don't get separated or blown to bits… _There was a normal wish, she could have been wishing for everyone who was sleeping in his/her bed at the moment probably being plagued by nightmares. She kept those blue eyes colored and another, silly wish came to mind and she figured why not enjoy this childish moment. _And I wish that… Mail would talk to me more… I know it's stupid but… If you really are a magic star… maybe he can like me? Like me too, I mean…_ She blushed very lightly as she thought that.

_"My name's Mail," The red-headed boy said quietly as Alfred continued talking about how he became leader. _

"Eliza? What are you doing up?" A voice asked. Eliza just about jumped out of her skin as she recognized the voice as Mail's usually indifferent one, now it just held a bit of surprise. Her eyes snapped open and over to the boy behind her.

"Oh, hey Mail, what are you doing here?" _Idiot, he just asked you that! _Funny, Eliza was cold and collected around everyone else but around Mail she was rendered into a flustered, blushing puddle of sap. And god did she hate it.

"I always come here," He explained sitting beside her, tilted his head up a bit so his goggled eyes were pointed up towards the stars. She looked away from him and looked back at the starry sky.

"Ah, well, I guess it was just the nerves that drove me here," She told him without looking at him.

"The raid?" He asked, not really having to.

"Yeah, I mean, Alfred's nuts," she laughed a bit. It was a simple rule, when you felt awkward just call Alfred an idiot or something.  
He chuckled but it seemed to be more of a nervous laugh, she guessed he was nervous about the whole thing too. Alfred had said that they would go for supplies in the morning since Mail had discovered an enemy troop of around twenty-five was camped not too far away from them. They'd leave before the dawn and try to get as much supplies as they could, without being detected then go back to the hideout, pack then go find a new one further away from enemy troops. Sounded simple enough, the hardest part would be the not being detected part. Chances were that they would be shot dead or blown into fragments. Their only hope was that these troops had been forgotten about like them. It wasn't a rare thing for these makeshift governments to "forget" about troops and leave them to fend for themselves.  
Actually it was a common occurrence and a big reason why people didn't want to join the war effort.

"He may be nuts but… we've lasted this long, haven't we?" He stated.

Eliza nodded. He was right. Alfred may seem like a complete imbecile but he had come through for them time and time again, always leading them out of situations that seemed hopeless like, well, a hero. Eliza wouldn't admit it because of how thick her head could be at times but she really did admire the loud blond man.

"He's not too bad…" He continued. "I've gotten pretty close to him, ya know." It wasn't hard to believe, Alfred always had Mail doing things for him and when it came to planning attacks and raids it all came down to Mail on his little, old laptop and genius hacking skills. In away the fifteen-year-old hacker was Alfred's right hand man, as silly and stupid as it seemed.

"Yeah… I mean you are the golden child here," she meant for it to sound like a joke but the nerves made the words come out a bit harsh but Mail didn't seem to take offense, instead he merely shrugged it off.

"Nah, I mean, I just play on computers and push buttons. Take Alissa and Mihael for example, those two can make a paperclip and a piece of string into an explosive. Plus, Mihael's a genius or something, his IQ's high as hell."

"He sure doesn't show it," Eliza mumbled.

Mail chuckled. "He's just kind of a jerk; don't think about it too much. And let's see… Matthew's good at reading maps and I think he's the only one with a proper education here, oh and he's really calming."

"Yeah, he's the nice one of the two," She agreed referring to Alfred and Matthew.

"True, though I wouldn't say Alfred's not nice… he doesn't make us call him 'sir' like most of these douches would."

"Yeah, I was pretty shocked at that myself," she recalled how when she first met the loud American he corrected her when she addressed him as "sir". He preferred Alfred.

"And then there's you, I haven't seen you break down once."

She looked away again. "Well… I guess it's because… there's no reason to, ya know…"

"I cried my first night," He said sheepishly.

"I cried the night before," she responded, a small smile playing on her lips. He chuckled a bit again and looked up at the sky. His hands moved his goggles up so they rested on his forehead and he pointed up.

"See that?" Her eyes traveled up his arm and stopped at his fingertip.

"See what?" She asked.

"That's the Big Dipper," he explained. "My mom used to teach and stuff… she liked the stars."

In fact Eliza remembered hearing about the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper before, her eyes spotted her star in the constellation Mail had pointed out. _That must mean it is the North Star… _Eventually her eyes picked out another grouping of stars that seemed to look like the one Mail just showed her.

"Is that the Little Dipper then?"

"Huh? Where?"

"There," she pointed her finger to the constellation.

Mail squinted a bit. "I still can't see it," he complained. Eliza realized his eyes were a dark blue color; she never noticed before because he always wore those goggles of his. She sighed and turned his head so he _had _to see it.

"There, can you see it now?"

"No…" He whined.

She sighed. "Never mind…"

"No, wait!" He smiled a bit. "I think I see it now."

"Really?"

"No…"

-  
Ludwig finally set the picture down of his girl at home in Germany. He tried not looking at the picture too much because it would only make him feel more anger towards this entire situation. Ludwig hadn't been drafted like most of the dummkopfs here; he joined the military of his own free will [1]. But he was expecting something to be more proud of. Personally he wasn't a big fan of this war himself, especially since he ended up fighting for the more communist side of Germany. He was proud of his country just not proud of the side parts of it had fallen to. Civil War had already broken out in Germany, Poland, and Russia over the spilt decisions and Ludwig was pretty sure America wouldn't be too far  
behind.

Ludwig sighed. Getting into America had be painfully easy since Mexico had fallen to German, French and Italian troops. This whole thing felt incorrect and the only reason he was here and not fighting back in Europe was because his older brother had a very high  
military position and this was his idea.

Ludwig slipped the picture under his pillow and laid back down, staring up at the top of the tent. _Politics these days aren't like they used to be… Everything makes very little sense if you ask me… _If anything he wanted to be fighting in Germany against the communist spread, not for it. _Damn it Gilbert… you knew I didn't want to support this… _

"Ludwig? Are you okay?" An Italian accented voice chimed from across the tent.

"Ja, I am fine…" He grumbled to his Italian friend, Feliciano.

"Good, you have not-a-slept lately," the happy-go-lucky Italian chirped.

Ludwig sighed. "Do not vorry about me, I vill be just fine, zhe invasion is going good, ve vill be able to go home… hopefully vonce it is over," he mumbled and yawned a bit.

"Ve," Cheered the little Italian who had been drafted and wasn't a very good fighter. "I cannot-a-wait to make some pasta again." Feliciano was very fond of food, and talked about it most of the time. Ludwig found it beyond aggravating.

"Shut up," another man yelled sleepily. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

"Eep, I am-a-sorry Roderich," Feliciano squeaked and immediately closed his eyes. Ludwig rolled his blue eyes and rolled over on his side. His usually slicked back blonde hair was messy and a bit wild from tossing and turning. For some reason he felt a feeling of dread, as if nothing good was going to come from this. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed, no, ordered himself to fall asleep. And, after a few mental threats, he was successful.

He fell into a forced sleep that was filled with the haunting image of looking into dead eyes and a feeling of fear laced with the sound of his brother laughing.

_"Kesesese, c'mon Luddy, this vill vork, I promise…"_

"I hope so, bruder, I hope so…" 

-

"Alright dudes," Alfred addressed the kids on the outskirts of the camp that dawn. "You remember the plan?" They all nodded in response and Eliza casted a worried glance at Mail who smiled a bit to comfort her. Mihael came running back with Alissa jogging at his side, both out of breath and shaking visibly from adrenaline, fear and excitement.

"They saw us," Alissa reported, taking a deep breath. "Only a few soldiers came out but there'll be more."

"Good," Alfred smiled a bit, keeping every ton of worry he felt hidden in his eyes with a cocky attitude. "Let's show these Nazis what we're made of!"

-  
"Ludwig! Ludwig! Vake up you dummkopf!" A voice cried into his ear.

"Vhat!" He cried as his eyes shot open to see another soldier leaning over him with stern eyes.

"You vere mumbling in your sleep again," he responded. "And zhere's something going on out zhere. A few of us vent out to handle it."

"Vhat do you mean 'something's going on?'" He almost bellowed at the man who had woken him up.

"I think zhere's Americans in the camp," the soldier lowered his voice. "But zhe others are handling it."

Ludwig growled and sat up, pushing the man away and slicking back his hair with his one hand while the other reached for a handgun that he was addressed to keep near him at all times. "I don't care! I'm going out zhere!"  
The German soldier opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by what sounded like a small explosion. There were a few cries of a shock and curses amongst the men as it shook them awake, rattling them free from dreams about women and beer (Or, in Feliciano's case, women and pasta) or nightmares about losing loved ones or themselves.

"Vhat the hell!" He exploded and jumped up, gun in hand. Brushing aside everyone else he made it outside of the tent.

-  
The plan was going good, Eliza realized. The explosion made from Mihael and Alissa's makeshift bomb had successfully killed one man and disrupted the camp allowing her and Matthew to sneak into where most of the supplies were being kept. They both had old but large, dully colored backpacks on and were currently stuffing them full of canned food and bottled water. Her hands were shaking as she heard a few gunshots and the sound of angry German voices. She hoped that no one was getting shot at the moment and that this little guerilla style plan would actually work. She wondered what would happen if Alfred got killed her. Who would lead? She knew that without him they would probably fall apart at the seams and probably give up on the whole thing and risk being killed for avoiding military duties. Or what if Alissa died? Eliza knew that if the brown-haired girl was killed that she would crumble into nothing. Alissa and Eliza had become pretty close over the year that they had spent in this group together, and Alissa began to feel like the sister that Eliza wished she had as a little girl. Or Mihael. Mihael was annoying as hell but still, he was pretty smart and saved them more than once with a snap decision or a bomb he helped Alissa make. Then there was Matthew, the boy beside her stuffing his bag with cans, a concentrated look on his face that dripped with sweat. Matthew was a sweet guy and she'd feel pretty bad if that boy no longer had a place in this world, not to mention how it would ruin Alfred.  
And then there was Mail.

She wouldn't think about how upset she'd be if the red/brown-haired boy had suddenly lost his life to this ravenous war, consuming him and rendering him into nothing. The thought made her shiver.

"Eliza… I think we have enough supplies," Matthew told her in his small voice, hauling the backpack over his shoulders and rising to his feet.

"Yeah," she agreed, zipping shut her backpack and slinging it onto her back. "I think we should-." Her sentence was cut short by a sound she had grown used to; the sound of a bullet ringing through the air. Matthew's violet eyes widened and he fell to the side, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, a small cry of pain escaping his chapped lips.

Eliza gasped and, without thinking, crawled over to Matthew where he laid at, blood oozing out from his thigh. She pulled off her jacket with a strangled cry, leaving her in a tight black tank top, and pressed it down. They'd have to remove the bullet but she couldn't do it here. Plus she wasn't a medic.

"Eliza…" Matthew whispered. "Run!"

That's when she realized the full extent of the situation.

She was alone in the enemy's camp with Matthew shot and bleeding, vulnerable, and a gun being pointed at her.

The blonde German with the fiery blue eyes, slicked back blond hair cocked the gun that he had pointed at her, aiming for right between her eyes.


	4. Chapter 3

"He's pulling his weapon to his side  
Loading it full of his goodbyes  
Holding an enemy across the line"  
-Linkin Park, Across the Line

For some odd reason that no one would be able to explain, Ludwig thought that this girl that he was holding at gun point looked oddly familiar. There was no way that he knew here though, no there was no way that the two of them had ever met before in their lives. Nothing about her was familiar. Not that greasy black hair, not that pale, scared face, not those tattered clothes, absolutely nothing. But as his stern eyes took in the sight of her frozen ice blue ones, he felt as if this girl was someone he had known. He wetted his chapped lips as he kept his gun steady, his thoughts racing. He had never hesitated to shoot someone before in his life, he was too trained for that, too smart, but those eyes… those dead, wide blue eyes looked so soul-piercingly familiar, as if… as if he had stared into them before. He wasn't comfortable in this situation; he wanted it over with badly.

But why couldn't he pull the trigger?

Every time he tried to, it was like something was stopping him. Something said that this girl was different, that by killing her he would be committing a sin, a great one that could damn him more than he already was. Was it the fact that she was so young? Perhaps, perhaps that was it, maybe Ludwig didn't want to kill a child. But that wouldn't be an excuse to his higher-ups, to his fellow soldiers, to his brother. The thought of his brother made his stomach twist with mixed emotions. His brother was the reason he was here now, he knew why though; he knew why he agreed to kill people for the communist side though he was against it.

Gilbert had a foolproof plan, that's why he was here and why he had to kill this child.  
The girl's eyes never left his, he could see the small handgun sticking out of the holster she wore, her heavy breathing making it ride up and down. She was too smart to even try and reach for it, Ludwig could tell she wasn't a novice when it came to these things. The boy he had shot, the one with blond hair and terrified eyes, was still on the floor, breathing in terrified, pain filled breaths as he watched this scene unfold. He also was not stupid enough to reach for a gun; his movements would be too noticeable and clumsy. And yet Ludwig had to kill them both.

His fingers began to pull the trigger as he looked into those wide, now scared, blue eyes. Those eyes… he couldn't… He stopped and cursed mentally. He had a feeling that deep down inside that this girl was important, that she alone had the power to do something, hopefully something good. A sigh escaped his lips as he lowered his gun and gruffed out a quick "go".

This was very out of character for him so he found his temper going as she just sat there and stared at him, as if she were too dumb to understand.

"Go," he said in more of a growl. "If you do not vant to be shot, leave now." He still held his gun tightly in his hands.

The girl nodded and stood up, watching him like a hawk as she began to help up the blond who whimpered and hissed as he struggled to get to his unsteady feet. Ludwig watched as she held him up, and softly muttered to him.

"Thank you sir," she whispered to Ludwig in a tiny yet firm voice that made his blood run cold. "I will never forget this." And at that she pulled the blond away, one eyes looking over her shoulder to make sure Ludwig was speaking with honesty. He watched her trudge through the back, until she eventually disappeared behind the tents, her wounded friend with her.

Ludwig sighed as one thought rung in his mind. He had just spared someone, something he had never done. And, as he wiped away footprints in the dust, a thousand small voices in his head chided him that he would be doing the world a favor if he had just killed that girl.

A bigger favor than it deserved.

There's something odd and amazing about believing that death was going to claim you and suddenly discovering that you had been spared. Eliza had been marveling over the sensation for awhile, wondering why the German had spared her. Perhaps it was due to stereotypes, but she had been certain that he was going to kill both her and Matthew. But he didn't… he had let them both walk away alive.

They had returned to their hideout, postponing the move until Matthew recovered. Eliza and Matthew had been able to meet up with the others and bring the supplies with them. The raid had been, despite Matthew getting shot, a success and now Eliza was sitting outside the hideout, hair blowing around her as Matthew was having that bullet removed from his body by Alissa (who had turned out to be a rather good medic, which had surprised them all). The sounds of the wet sound of flesh being dug through and the smell of blood had given Eliza a headache so she left, leaving Alissa to her work and Alfred squeezing his brother's hand the entire time, his brow scrunched up nervously, worried about his brother due to the fact they had nothing to numb the pain.

Mail was outside with Eliza too, but he was out to inhale the smoke from a cigarette, treasuring the feeling of it coursing through his lungs. Mail was a smoker, which much they all knew, and he always managed to stock up on cigarettes rather they are from enemy camps or the bodies of enemy soldiers. During the raid he had grabbed as many packs as he could, almost tripping over a few boots and sleeping Italian soldiers, but he had managed to retrieve them and Mihael and Alissa had managed to find some chocolate as well. Eliza wouldn't doubt that Alissa was working on Matthew with a bar of chocolate sticking out of her mouth.

"Hey, Mail," Eliza called to the boy who took another drag from his cancer stick. He grunted to show that he was listening.

"Those things are going to be the death of you, ya know," she chided him.  
The boy with the orange goggles looked over to her and shrugged. "Well if I survive this war I'll probably be too traumatized to want to live any longer so cancer should do the trick." Eliza rolled her eyes.

"That logic makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense but," he looked up the sky, "smoking won't be the death of me, promise." He smiled a bit.

"What makes you say that?"

Mail shrugged. "My dad said, well, before he died, that a girl was going to be the death of me."

Eliza laughed drily. "Seriously? This is war, Mail. Out here we don't fall in love, out here we die." She felt bad for saying such things but she felt compelled to speak the bitter honesty. Mail looked at her briefly.

"I guess… but what if we do fall in love?"

She blushed lightly. "W-we? Like me and you?"

"No, I mean all of us are a family… I mean… Mihael's my best friend… Alfred's like my big brother… Matthew is too… Alissa's like a sister… and you…" his voice quieted. "You're like the girl in school that you just want to hug and never let go…"  
Eliza blushed and looked at him, only to see him stomping out his cigarette and heading back inside.

_Perhaps… we could fall in love out here… _

But love is war, a cold, merciless war that spares nothing.

"Gilbert!" A Hungarian woman swung her frying pan at the albino who was in her kitchen and who had just tried grabbing at her sensitive areas. The albino ducked out of the way, trying to avoid the woman's rage. He grabbed her arm and stared into her green eyes.

"C'mon, Elizaveta," the albino said, a slightly amused smirk on his lips. "calm down, I vas joking." He stated that innocently.

Elizaveta just glared at him. "Gilbert you know I'm with Roderich," she broke out of his grip and crossed her slender arms. "Just because he's fighting in the war doesn't mean he no longer exists."

Gilbert sighed and sat down on the edge of her kitchen counter, which she frowned at.

Gilbert and Elizaveta were both in high position in the military, Elizaveta, however was on the Democratic side of the fight while Gilbert was communist, or so they thought. Gilbert was secretly meeting up with Miss. Héderváry to discuss some important things and plans for the war. Gilbert, however, had gotten a little side tracked and changed his goal from leaking information to getting his hands on Elizaveta's body, but his advances were not met kindly. The brunette woman was currently dating an Austrian soldier who had been drafted into one of the armies Gilbert had influence over in America, the same squad his little brother was in.

"I still can't believe your idiot plan on invading America actually worked," she huffed, her green eyes staring into Gilbert's red ones intensely. "You were just as shocked." She was judging him and he didn't like it.

"But it did vork," he defended himself, glaring at her. "Most of the troops are still alive, zhose Americans are veak anyvay." He shrugged..

"But you thought it was suicide at first, we all did," she wasn't letting this go, and Gilbert was wondering what she was getting at.

"Vhat are you trying to say?"

Elizaveta sighed. "You sent Roderich to America for that reason." Her eyes were now cold, green waters that wanted to drown him. "I was thinking it was weird that you sent him to America and now I figured it out, you want him dead, you always have."  
Gilbert turned away from her judging gaze and snarled. "You know I'm doing zhis for zhe greater good, you know zhis, Elizaveta. Roderich, you and I have been friends for zhe longest time! Vhy vould I vant to have him killed?"

Elizaveta didn't answer, she just merely lowered her voice. "Then tell me one thing… if you thought it was a suicide mission why did you send your bruder there to fight…?"

Gilbert fell silent.

And for the first time in many years Gilbert didn't know what to say.


	5. Chapter 4

"And through it all, the rise and fall  
The bodies in the streets  
And when you're gone we want you all to know  
We'll carry on"  
-My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade

The sun seemed to be as sweltering hot as it could possibly be. Alfred took a rag that he kept shoved in one of the deep pockets stitched into his cargo pants and wiped it against his forehead as the sun beat down on him mercilessly. Luckily they had found a new hideout a few miles away from the old one and now he and the kids were setting up on what was probably the hottest day of the year.

The hideout was a sort of a bunker that probably had been formally occupied by German soldiers due to the papers they had found scattered about the floor which were written in a language Alissa declared to be German. The ground was dusty and the roof was slanted a tad bit but it was shaded none the less. Half of it seemed to lean to the side as if it were trying to crawl away and get out from under the beating rays of sunlight that were gleaming on its surface. Inside of it was dark enough yet it wasn't in such dim lighting that it would make this place look even more pathetic than it really was though. No, this place was a little blessing.

Eliza dragged over the crinkly old bag that contained what supplies that they had obtained from the raid a few days ago and already supplies were depleting faster than they would have been comfortable with. Matthew had almost fully recovered from the bullet wound but he still walked with a noticeable limp and couldn't move as fast as the others could. But he was holding on strong just like everyone else. No matter how frail he seemed at times, Matthew had a strong spirit.

Alfred pulled open the side-ways door and stepped inside the dusty area, sweating greatly, the others in tow behind him.

"Alright dudes, I know we had to leave our beds and all that phazazz but let's try to make the best of this lame-o situation, kay?" he asked them all in his loud, booming, cheerful voice. They didn't answer him, not even Matthew who would usually try to cheer everyone up when they seemed down. But Alfred's face only fell a bit because he realized they were probably just worn out from trekking through the desert nonstop until they found a safe place to stay. Alfred just thought of the whole thing as relocating, he wouldn't dare think "retreating" though in all honesty that's pretty much what he was doing.

_No... I'm not retreating... I'm going to save these kids and get them out of here... Running to Mexico is out of the question since those damn Nazi punks took it over... So I guess I'll just keep leading them North until we reach Canada... maybe they'll be safer there._

Mihael let out a very long sigh as he dropped the sleeping bag he had lugged around with him onto the dust covered ground. Unfortunately for them, the bunker only had one room and that meant that they would have to pile their sleeping bags all in the same room and sleep by each other, unlike the previous situation where they were divided into two separate rooms. Mail dropped his sleeping bag besides Mihael's, the dull green bag making a weak, crinkling sound of fabric in protest, and everyone else followed suit in dropping the bags. Alfred sighed to himself as he looked around the dusty room at all of his tired, dirty troops and forced a smile.

"Hungry dudes?" He asked, hoping to get some spirit out of his tuckered out soldiers, rubbing his worn calloused hands.

"Hell yeah we are," Mihael stated bluntly and Alfred couldn't help but laugh because he figured that was the most spirit he'd get out of them today.

"Well go ahead and open yourselves up something to eat," Alfred sat down on the floor to retie his dusty brown boots. "And Mail, why don't you pass around the water?" Mail gave a little salute and pulled off the dull colored backpack off of his back and began to pull out small bottles of water. On the way here, Alfred had been really strict about how much water they could drink, he said he didn't want it all to get drained before they even got back, so now the sweaty, worn children were ready to drink some cool, refreshing water. Mail handed out the bottles to everyone, his hands dusty and bits of dirt getting caught up in the rippled designs on the side of the bottle. Oh, Alfred would've given anything for a nice, big jug of water. The sound of talking was completely vacant as they all ate; almost as if they were too tired to even speak to one another, so, instead of verbal messages, they seemed to communicate with some sort of silence. Mail kept shooting worried glances at Mihael and Eliza though he was positioned next to Alissa who was quickly becoming a sister figure to the auburn-haired adolescence. The group had begun to form tight bonds with each other, creating some sense of family among them. Eliza sat by Alfred, the man she claimed to hate, but her desire to always study him and challenge him only showed her hidden respect for him. Mihael kept one, slim arm around Alissa, pulling her close as if he was unconsciously making actions to protect her from some unseen enemy, their strange, affection for each other was well known among everyone but yet no one had been told about it, nor did they ask, they just simply knew. Even Matthew was starting to find a cozy nook of a place instead of a spot among the dusty painted background.

"So... when's the wedding?" Alfred asked, the silence starting to bug him.  
Alissa's head jerked up slightly, her fingers entwined with Mihael's. Usually most girls in this situation would blush or react with embarrassment, but not out here. Out here they knew that love is just something that glues you together and rips you apart. But they were okay with that and simply gave Alfred a look that said "be quiet" which caused him to crack a large smile and shove another spoonful of cold soup in between his chapped lips. And that was the last of the talking that was done to Alfred's dismay. He could only hope that they hadn't yet figured out what he was trying to do.

Leading them away from the fight.

Retreating.

-  
"Feliciano!" Ludwig cried out as he heard the sound of a gunshot sound closer to him than he would've hoped. The small Italian's body fell back into the dusty earth, clouds of sand and dirt floating around him for a moment until it settled down around his body, blood oozing out from his side, a pain expression on his usually dozy face. Ludwig turned his sharp gaze to the one that fired, a small, teenage girl with her brown hair pulled ridiculous ponytails and a shaky, yet somewhat insane smile on her face. Without hesitating, Ludwig pointed his dusty pistol at her and pulled the trigger, the bullet slicing through the girl's slim, ashy throat. Muffled gurgles escaped her lips as she fell back into the dust, the sound of her drowning in her own blood, weakly clinging on to the breath of life. Ludwig looked away from her little song of death and turned to the writhing Italian who was mumbling quietly to himself in Italian, tears welling up into the corners of his amber eyes.

"Feliciano..." He mumbled, dropping down beside the bloodied Italian boy who he dared to call his friend. It had been an ambush much like the one a few days ago but this one had been more organized, as if it were being planned by something smarter and more elite than the little band of fighters raided them not too long ago. But this ambush, this ambush had robbed them of a few of their soldiers and they had only managed to kill a few of them. Ludwig cradled Feliciano's head in his lap as the other soldier were helping comrades to their feet or dragging off bodies to bury.

"Fratello...?" Feliciano whispered, looking up at Ludwig with cloudy eyes. "Is that-a you?" Feliciano's expression of pain morphed into one of joy and his lips tugged up into a small, weak smile that made Ludwig's heart clench up. _Nein... you're bruder is fighting in Europe, remember? _He almost said, staring down at the happy-go-lucky Italian until he remembered something that happened months ago, when they first entered America.

_"Hey Ludwig?" Feliciano first asked one night after all the other soldiers were fast asleep, nervous over the place they were in and the battles they could be fighting any day now, only a coward would never admit they weren't scared. And these men were not cowards._

"Vhat is it?" Ludwig asked, annoyed that the boy that had been following him around like a lost puppy was interrupting his well needed sleep. Feliciano suddenly seemed nervous about something.

"Well since-a my big fratello is-a fighting in Spain I..." He trailed off.

Ludwig gave an exasperated sigh. "Vhat is it?"

"I wanted to-a know if you wanted to be my big fratello while my fratello is-a not here," Feliciano smiled a sweet little smile. Ludwig had to admit that he was a bit touched by that.

"Your big bruder?" He asked to clarify.

"Si," Feliciano smiled. "You can-a protect me and-a make sure I'm safe and you can-a tell me what to do and I'll probably disappoint you..." 

"Ja," Ludwig said to the little Italian, "Ja, I'm here."

"That's happy," Feliciano mumbled. "Hey Ludwig? I'm-a tired... can we-a go home and get some pasta?"

Ludwig took a deep breath. "Of course... ve'll get you some pasta..."

"Ooh, an can we-a get a lot of it?"

Ludwig held back a tear. "J-ja as much as you vant..." Feliciano blinked and smiled more.

"Yay... Ludwig, why do you sound-a sad? Did I-a do something to...make you sad?" Tears began to pour down the Italian's face.

"I'm-a sorry Ludwig...!" Feliciano sobbed. "I'm-a sorry for whatever I did bad... Please don't a hate me!"

"Shh, shut up Feliciano!" Ludwig yelled then fell silent as the boy flinched. "I'm not  
going to hate you... I'm going to make you feel better, ja?" But Feliciano had drifted into a state of unconsciousness and Ludwig finally decided to let all the tears flow. Because now, now he felt as if he had nothing to keep him here except a promise to his brother. Protecting Feliciano had been the main reason why he had stayed fighting for an unjust cause that he didn't believe in. And he couldn't even keep that promise. Now he was only here for Gilbert, and he wasn't sure if that promise they made was worth keeping. Feliciano stirred slightly and Ludwig blinked away his tears.

_Nein, I must not abandon hope yet... he's still alive... _And with that Ludwig got up, cradling the Italian against his chest and made a run for it. _I'm keeping that promise, Feliciano, I promise... _

-

"Where are we going big bruder?" A small, blonde girl with short hair asked her older brother who was tugging her through throngs of people, holding her hand tight.

"We're going back home," He grunted, fighting his way through the crowd, hoping to get a ride on the train system, with it you could get from North America to Europe within a few short hours.

"Home?" She asked, trying to keep up with him. "But, I thought home vas here..."

The blond-haired boy shook his head. "No, Lili, we're going back home to Switzerland."

That was the day Canada fell. And America was the next target.

-

"VHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Gilbert yelled into the microphone that allowed him to communicate with his troops in America. "ARE YOU TELLING ME ZHAT YOU LOST TO A BUNCH OF CHILDERN?"

"Vell... Not all of zhem vere children..." the soldier responded, a scared tone in his voice.

"I DON'T CARE!" Gilbert took a deep breath. "I'll get back vith you, alvight?" And, without waiting for a response, he turned off the headset and took it off of his head, tossing his snowy-white hair around. He shot a glare at the screen in front of him that showed fallen regions of the world in bright red and places under attack in purple.

"I'll show zhose dumkopfts how it's done," He growled and got up to get ready for his departure to America.


	6. Chapter 5

"Say your prayers and light a fire, we're going to start a war  
Your slogan's a gun for hire  
It's what we waited for"  
-Green Day, ¡Viva la Gloria!

Alfred's plan was slowly becoming apparent to all the others within a few days time, but they refused to hint on him that fact since they all understood what he was trying to accomplish. Eliza knew that Alfred was trying to save them; trying get them out of this war before it took their lives and left them buried in ditches somewhere. Though she hated the idea of retreating, she had to admit that she was grateful to the man for trying to go against his morals all for their sakes.

It was one of those cool nights where Eliza found herself unable to sleep when she found some reason to keep moving on and fight for something she believed in. The light winds blew at her hair softly, causing her to fight with it to stay down and spit it out on the occasion where a strand got stuck in her mouth. Insomnia had once again plagued her want to sleep so she decided to take a breath or two of fresh, night time air. The sand, dirt, and dust below her felt cool and refreshing instead of the usual feel of heat that seemed to radiate off of it, it was a nice change for once. Absentmindedly , she ran her worn fingers over the dusty surface, stroking the earth as if she were reassuring it that no more blood would be spilt on her surface, that no more graves would be dug into her earthy skin, no more homes burning down, scorching her, and no more tears that would water her. Both Eliza and the earth knew, however, that no such thing was possible.  
Softly, Eliza began to hum a small tune to herself, a lullaby that she very distantly could remember; it was probably a song from her cradle days, sung to her by the mother she had not seen in what seemed like many years. The memory of her family stung her greatly since the chances of her never being able to see her mother and sister again were very, very high. Mostly likely she'd end up dead before she could leave.

_Unless Alfred's plan works…_ She thought to herself, _Then maybe we can try to get to our families eventually… _She was only trying to reassure herself, however, since fate had a away with playing with you, like how a cat toys with a mouse before it mercilessly devours it. A breath suddenly hitched in her throat when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Hey," a cool collected voice from behind her said causally. Eliza spun around to face the familiar face of none other than Mail Jeevas. A small, toothy grin found its way on her face as he waved, his hand rummaging through his pockets.

"Nicotine?" She asked, really not surprised when he pulled out a small Zippo.

"It was calling to me," the brunette stated, fishing out a small, white box of cancer sticks, opening it up to reveal that there were only three of the death sticks left.

"What are you gonna do when you run out?" she asked, tracing a heart in the dirt. Mail shrugged his shoulders and placed one cigarette in between his lips and lit it. He took a long drag and closed his eyes. The silence lasted for a small while before he spoke.

"I guess hold off until we find more," he finally answered her question, holding the cig between two of his fingers, sitting beside the black-haired girl.

"They're going to kill you," she said a bit bitter. Mail chuckled, amused.

"What's so funny?" she asked, taking the defense.

"You," he said bluntly, taking another drag. Blinking once, Eliza just stared at the goggle-wearing boy with confusion, slightly offended by his statement. Being a good atmosphere reader, Mail quickly realized that she took offense and decided to clear that statement up.

"I mean, you take things so seriously… it's cute…" he said blandly, somehow able to say that with a straight face and not having to look away. A blush lightly dusted her checks.

"Shut up… and cancer is a serious issue."

"_Was_ a serious issue," he corrected, flicking away ashes. "Nowadays more people are worried about not getting killed."  
A nod was all she could give in reply. Awkwardly, she played with the hem on her shirt, trying to keep the silence from getting awkward.

"Cute…?"

He laughed and dropped the cigarette to the ground, stomping on it once. "Yeah, no… wait…" Her head cocked to the side.

"Huh…?"

"You're not cute… you're beautiful…" His body was now facing hers, he was close enough that she could feel his breath slowly going, laced with the toxic scent of smoke and a faint trace of dust. It was a homey smell to her now. Hesitantly, she moved her eyes up to look into his orange tinted goggles which covered his blue orbs that were the color of the deepest ocean waters. A toothy, half smile greeted her and she couldn't help but giggle at the pure absurdness of how he looked. But she couldn't help that sudden blush that spread over her face as she realized just what he said.

"Um…" she had no way to respond so she could only hold his gaze warmly and smile nervously, her blush growing as he leaned in closer, and closer, and closer. A tiny tremble ran up her spine but she didn't know if it was from the slight chill in the wind, fear, or excitement. Without further warning, Mail softly pressed his chapped up, nicotine tasting lips to her cracked ones. Perhaps the setting was rather unpleasant, but that night caused a simple first kiss to go far. She wasn't sure what the emotions she felt at that minute were. They were some combination of desire and need that she felt she had to appease. And she couldn't fully control her desperate actions, as he could also not control his.

They were young, they were naïve, and they were curious.

Under the cloud coated moon, they took it all the way. And since the possible of dying tomorrow was dangerously high, it did not matter to them anyway if they had made any mistake.

-

"Vhat zhe hell are you doing here bruder!?" was the only words Ludwig could come up with when he saw his older brother walking through the medical tent the day after Feliciano's injury. Due to a modern day transportation method, Gilbert was able to get from Germany to America within only a few small hours and make it to where the troops were station with no difficultly at all. Gilbert had greeted his brother with open arms, literally, though Ludwig did not share the same feelings his brother.

"I came to help," Gilbert defended himself. "Plus I vanted to check up on my little bruder."

"Vell, you could have just called," Ludwig grumbled, looking over at the sleeping Italian on the cot. He was awake earlier today but he fell asleep shortly before Gilbert had arrived, and Ludwig was vainly hoping that Gilbert would be gone when the brunette woke up.

"Vhat's your problem, you're acting like zhere's a stick up your ass," Gilbert complained. "Or are you just jealous zhat you're not as awesome as me?" Ludwig rolled his fierce blue eyes. He had been hoping that the military and the responsibilities his brother had been given were enough to stamp out that obsession with that word. Gilbert took narcissism to a whole new level.

"Nein," Ludwig sighed. "I just vant to know vhy you're here…" Gilbert's crimson eyes light up at that statement and he sat down on a spare cot, pulling on leg up to rest on his lap.

"Vell, it all started vhen zhat poor excuse of a general led you into a battle zhat you lost, and ve all know zhat zhe awesome me vould've done a vay better job."

Ludwig didn't respond, he just narrowed his eyes.

"So I figured vhy not lead you myself? I am the best person for zhe job." Ludwig didn't seem too keen on the idea of his brother leading his squad; in fact he looked disgusted by it.

"Gilbert, you vere a great soldier, but I don't think you should be taking over like zhat, how else are ve going to achieve our goal?" he whispered in his older brother's ear. "If ve loose you, ve lose zhe point of joining zhis side… vho else vill fill your place?" Ludwig was trying to be nonchalant about what he and his older brother were planning. They were both in on the little scheme to leak information to the other side, but Gilbert was the one with most of the contacts, Ludwig was the one who did most of the information recording. Though, here in America, it was harder for him to gather the information he needed since all the important Communist leaders were in Europe still, so that's why Ludwig had been so shocked when Gilbert had assigned him to fight in America.

Gilbert nodded and looked at his brother with a very serious look, one Ludwig had never seen before.

"Don't vorry… I have a plan…"

However, Ludwig didn't know that his brother's plan had changed drastically since the last time the two talked.

-

Mail could not exactly explain the feeling of euphoria he had that next afternoon. Since he wasn't one to really show emotion, he didn't know how to properly express how he felt standing next to her. Sure, they were on a work mission and they were expected back before the sun began to set, but he was happy. Eliza picked up on this show of emotions quickly, she never saw Mail work with so much emotion, and she would sometimes catch him smiling at nothing or even humming to himself. But she didn't care how strange it was, she was just happy to see him show so much emotion; it was a nice change.

Alfred had asked the duo to check out a building he had stumbled upon the other day while scouting ahead. It was an old, crumbled stone building that may or may not have been an office of some sorts; it had probably been hit by the shelling that happened when America first fell under attack a few years ago. Inside was nothing more but some ruble and broken desks, tables, and chairs. Mail had been hoping to find a computer of some sorts but unfortunately, if there had been one, it had either been stolen or just had been thrown away or crushed into nothing more than a pile of parts.

Smiling very slightly, Mail turned to Eliza. "Found something," he said, his fingers resting on the ledge of an open drawer.

"Show me," she replied, happy that there had been some find. With a coy smirk, Mail pulled out a small tin can that could fit into someone's pocket. Eliza felt her heart sink into her chest, "That's it?"

Mail chuckled. "Nah, there's more," he said matter-o-factly. With a popping sound, he pushed off the lid with his thumb to reveal that the can was filled with pills. "Painkillers," he mumbled. "My mom used to have these all around the house. They were in a locked drawer so no one else was able to get them."

Eliza had to admit she was impressed. "That's great, how'd you get them?"

"Lock pick," he said simply, putting the tin into his pocket. "I think this should be enough for today," he stated, getting closer and draping an arm over her shoulders.

"Me too," she muttered, blushing. And with that she shrugged his arm off and grabbed the small gun she kept at her side. Fumbling with the straps, she struggled to get it out, just in case they ran into something that they didn't want to.

"Kesesese, vhat do ve have here?"

Something like that. Shocked, the duo spun around just in time to see a smirking albino and then the world faded to black.


	7. Chapter 6

"She's a gunshot bride  
With a trigger cries  
I just wonder what we've gotten ourselves into"  
-Pendulum, Propane Nightmares

"Where the hell are they?!" Alfred grumbles, pacing up and down the length of the small hideout, sweat glistening on his brow. "It's been six freaking hours! The sun's down and they should be here!" Without warning, Alfred slammed his hand into the wall, causing him to wince at the sudden pain. "Ow…"

"Relax," Matthew tried to reassure him. "I'm sure they'll be here any minute…" But Matthew's words did nothing to reassure the American boy.

"I can't relax… for all I know they could be dead!" He unleashed a sigh as he rested his forehead against the wall, his breaths coming in ragged pants. Honestly, Alfred was worried sick about those two kids, his brain was throwing him all the terrible images he didn't want to see; the bodies of children scattered about.

"Come in….Jones….this is…." The small radio Alfred had set up crackled, most of the words being cut off. In a fury of movements, Alfred dashed over and placed the worn out headset over his head, his expression urgent.

"This is Jones," he said, the stress alive in his tone. "What is it?"

Matthew was deaf to the words that Alfred was being told, but by the look on his brother's face, Matthew knew it wasn't good.

"Uh-huh…oh…" Alfred's voice sounded faint and a lot smaller than it should have. "Okay… roger that… over…" he removed the headset from his head, tossing his hair slightly, his expression grim.

"Alfred…?"

"Canada fell…" Alfred said, his plans crumbling to ash. "Now they're coming from the north too…"

-

Eliza's head was groggy, her thoughts fuzzy and incomprehensible. The taste in her mouth was one of dirt and some foul taste she could not put a name to. Her muscles were cramped and tired, as if she had been walking for miles, either that or carried over rough shoulders. Or maybe it was also the feel of being dragged for miles, rocks and twigs scraping at her back. With her body refusing to get up, she slowly peeled open her eyelids, checking out the area around her. At first her vision was blurred and fuzzy, the light hurting it. Was that sunlight? _No… that's a fire… _she thought sleepily, shutting her eyes once again.

It was a small jab in her side that completely woke her up. Her body jerked forward in shock and her eyes shot open. Instantly, her head turned to see Mail beside her, his goggles vacant from his face but were instead around his neck. The brunette boy gave her a look that clearly told her to be quiet. She noted how he arms were pulled behind his back in a way that he probably wouldn't do on his own. In fact, now that she looked closer, his arms were wrapped together with rope. Panic shot through her as she tried to move apart her arms, only to find they too were bound tightly, so tight it was almost painful.

"Vell, look who's up," an accented voice laughed. Eliza turned to face bright red orbs that reminded her of blood. With her mouth set in a tight line, Eliza stared him down until his hand clamped down on her head. "She's just a kid," he chuckled. "Are zhe American's alveady zhat desperate?" he taunted, ruffled her tangled locks. The face she made in response was much like the one someone would make after eating a lemon. The man, who appeared to be an albino, laughed a very strange laugh before removing his hand and turning his attention to Mail.

Mail did not seem at all wavered by his stare; instead he looked the Albino dead in the face. Then again, Mail never seemed to be wavered by anything.

"Vhat's your name," the German barked. Mail didn't answer; he just kept his blue orbs empty. The albino didn't take to be ignored lightly. "I said," he repeated in more gruff tone. "Vhat, is, your, name?!"

"What's your name?" Eliza suddenly spoke her voice firm and drained. A smirk danced across the German's face.

"Gilbert, Gilbert Beilschmidt," he said in a proud tone, chances were that he was a head-honcho or something, well at least by the way he spoke. He expected and demanded respect. Gilbert turned his head back to Mail, his white locks tossed to and fro by a gentle breeze. "Now, vhat is your name?"

As the German waited for an answer, Eliza let her gaze travel over the area they were in. A tent, they were in a tent and there was a fire right outside of it. However, it looked as if the night sky was hanging over head. _How long was I out..? _she thought numbly, shivering a bit in the breeze. Her thoughts could offer nothing to assist her in answering that question, and neither could the scenery. So, she turned her attention to the Albino German who was still probing Mail for his name. But suddenly, Mail did something Eliza did not expect him to do. Mail's blue orbs narrowed slightly and then, without any warning, he _spit _in Beilschmidt's face, right below one of his crimson eyes.

Things seemed to fall into some eerie silence (even though there were only three people all together in this tent) as the situation hit them all. The German very slowly moved a gloved hand to wipe the spit off his face; his movements were slow and his eyes looked down once at the fingers of his gloves which curled into a fist.

Eliza knew what was coming as the German's hand pulled back. It wouldn't take an idiot to figure out what would happen next. But yet, Eliza could help but give a cry of shock as Gilbert's fist made contact with Mail's face.

-

"I'm going to get them," Alfred announced, zipping up a brown bomber jacket and sliding his handgun into its holster.

"About damn time," Mihael grumbled, giving the blond male a look that seemed a bit pleased. Mihael had been worried sick about his best friend and was contemplating going out to look for them himself.

"Alfred, let me go with you," Alissa said in a firm yet begging tone, her hands both curled into fists. "If they're hurt you'll need my help." Since Alissa and Matthew were the only two that knew more than the basics about medical procedures, it would make sense for Alfred to take one of them with him. However, Alfred didn't seem like he wanted to make sense today.

"Sorry dudette," he said in a hushed voice, adjusting his jacket and turning his back to them, now facing the slanted door. With his back still turned, he looked down and mumbled a phrase to them softly, so soft that they may or may not have heard him. "Chances are they're dead already." And with that, Alfred F. Jones walked out into the night, determined to bring something back, even if it was just a body.

-

"Ugh… I feel like death…" Mail grumbled with his head hung low and blood now drying on his face. In the flickering shadows, the blood looked black almost, like dried tar.

"You got punched in the face three times…" Eliza muttered softly to him, wishing she were not tied so she could comfort him with more than her words.

"Bitch can punch…" he sighed, a black eye more than likely forming. Quietly, Mail spit out a bit of the blood that was in his mouth and sighed, wondering if his nose was broken. The German had left them to attend to some business so the two kids were alone and cold, shivering pitifully and bound.

"I wonder… if they're going to kill us…" Eliza breathed. They all were prepared to die, but when death does come, you never really expect it to actually happen, you hope for some reason that it won't grip you by the throat; these kids were no exception to that.

"Maybe…" Mail sighed, scooting his body as close to her as he could get it to. He had no doubt that it would be warmer beside someone. "But if they do…" he sighed at the very idea. Even though Mail was a neutral kind of person, he didn't really want to die. "I l- want a smoke first." Eliza had to admit that that made her smile.

"Only you Mail, only you." After exchanging a few chuckles, the kids feel silent, listening as the troops shuffled around and went about their business, speaking in some tongue that they could not understand. Drowsiness began to overtake Eliza and soon she found herself drifting off into a black slumber devoid of any dreams. Mail, however, couldn't sleep.

He was dying for a cigarette right now.

-

"Hey dudes… dudes… wake up…" a familiar voice called Eliza from her sleep. Out of shock, both of her eyelids flew open to gaze into the blue orbs of none other than Alfred F. Jones.

"Alf-," she almost cried in shock, but Alfred clamped his hand over her mouth, muffling the rest of the sound. He gave a small smile and promptly began to untie her, working fast and efficient in the bleak dead of night. Much to Eliza's relief, Mail appeared to already be awake and untied.

"Okay dudes, we gotta be fast and sneaky, 'kay?" he mumbled, his voice sounding serious. "It's really early in the morning… the sun will start coming up in about an hour…"

They both remained quiet and nodded one solemn nod, gratitude filling their bodies. Alfred grinned and removed his hand from Eliza's mouth and began to make his way out of the tent by using a slit he cut in the back of it to get in.

Few guards were out, but they seemed not to be paying any attention to the back part of the camp. The walk back was very uneventful, in fact it was just them walking in silence with serious looks, hoping that they wouldn't feel the sudden burn of a bullet pelt into their backs and drop them like flies. They were too close.

They were probably half a mile away now, the tents fading away, in fact, they were starting to feel home free. So, Mail stopped for a minute to light a cigarette to refresh his body's want of nicotine. Carefully, he slid the box of cigs out of pant pockets, glad that no one had taken them from him when he had been captured. Much to his luck, his lighter was also with him. Placing the cig in between his lips, he lit it and took a long drag, relief washing through him.

And suddenly the picture was shattered as a single shot rang through the air, like a child crying in a library.

Eliza spun around as three more shots fired a scream building up in her throat. Alfred reacted, tackling her down into the ground as more bullets pierced the ground around them, his breathing heavy and panicking.

With one choked gurgle, Mail's bloody body fell forward into the dirt, painting the white in his stripped shirt bright crimson.


	8. Chapter 7

"I would have kept you, forever  
But we had to sever  
It ended for both of us faster than a…"  
-30 Seconds to Mars, Attack

The only thing Eliza seemed capable at the moment was screaming. Even though Alfred still had her pinned down in the dirt and dust to keep her safe from the rest of the bullets that flew at them, the only sound she could create was a loud heartbroken scream that made Alfred's own heart feel pangs of the girl's desperation. Bullets struck the ground around them hungrily, trying to blindly find the duo that had ducked close to the ground. Luckily, none of the other bullets had hit Eliza or Alfred. Eliza's thoughts, however, had been wishing otherwise.

The silence was even louder than the actual sounds of the bullets surprisingly, so both of the living human knew that it was over for the moment. Recklessly, Eliza tore herself from Alfred's grip and crawled over to Mail blinded by tears that seemed centuries old.

"Eliza!" Alfred called. "They might not be done shootin'!" he warned her. And yet the blond did nothing to stop her. He didn't think that he could bring himself to do more than just simply warn her. It wasn't like Eliza would have even listened to him anyway; she just kept on crawling towards the blood-soaked boy she had loved.

"Mail…" His name fell softly off her lips like a sacred word; an angelic yet tragic sound. Biting her lower lip, she rolled the boy over onto his back, gagging at the sight. The bullets had ripped through his flesh from behind, tearing open his skin and spilling tons of his blood. The blood… there was so much blood; more than the girl had expected. The brunette male's goggles were cracked and smeared with a bit of blood. There was even blood caked on his chapped lips; the lips she had kissed so many times before. Lightly, she brushed back his locks as bile rose in her throat. A few sniffles were heard as she removed the boy's cracked goggles, a single tear rolled down her nose during the process.

Bright, deep blue orbs stared back at her, glazed and unseeing; lifeless and frozen. Mail's eyes were not scared nor were they shocked. Like usual, his eyes were neutral and unaffected by any outside force. Somehow, this made the sight even worse for the girl. As gently as one would caress a flower, her fingertips closed the boy's eyelids.

Mail's father had been right. A girl had been the death of him.

"Eliza…" Alfred said, now directly behind the crying young woman. "We need to go…"

"No!" She yelled, her tone catching the blond off-guard. 'I'm not going to leave him!" She cried, the tears racing faster down her face. Alfred let out a gentle sigh; seeing Eliza like this was really starting to depress him. But to say he was unaffected by Mail's sudden death would be a lie. Alfred was just numb after watching soldiers around him fall one by one; sometimes because of his own fingers curling around a trigger. Mail would be, without a doubt, plaguing the leader's dreams tonight, staining them with bright crimson.

"Eliza…" he started softly, but when he realized that the black-haired girl was not listening to him, his tone grew hard. "Eliza!" The female jumped at the loudness in his voice. "Stop being stupid!" The blond boy gripped her shoulder not roughly but firmly. Since she had not responded, he decided to continue. "Mail is dead." The way he could say those words so harshly and real made him cringe on the inside. He feared one day someone would speak to him in that same tone of voice, announcing that Matthew was no longer alive and with them.

"I know…" she whispered hoarsely.

"He's never coming back, and I know that sucks balls but it's the truth. And if you stay out here, then you're gonna get killed too. Do you think everyone wants to lose you too, huh?" His questions were full of brutal honesty. "So don't be selfish about this!"

Alfred mentally smacked himself when he saw the girl cringe at his words. For another moment or two, she just sat there and stared at the body of her lover and friend. Then she hesitantly tore her gaze away from him and over to Alfred.

"…Alright…" she sucked in a breath, her eyes puffy and red. Yet, the tears seemed to make her blue irises stand out even more. In fact, they seemed to be a deeper blue color; but the color seemed empty. With a bit of a stumble to her steps, Eliza rose from where she was kneeling and gave Mail's corpse one last, long, desperate look before completely turning towards Alfred.

A small, pitying smile was sent her way by the loud American. The emotion in his eyes made her stomach coil in fury; that was the last thing she wanted: pity.

_I don't want your pity…. _she thought in a low grumble.

"If…" she began to speak but her voice cracked from the struggle. After exhaling, she decided to try it again. "If he's still here later… can we…"

"Bury him?" Alfred finished for her. "Yeah, of course we can, dudette, of course we can." At the faint sound of voices in the distance, Alfred stiffed and held out a gloved hand to the girl. "Let's go…"

With one swift nod, Eliza reached out and took the boy's hand, her body boxing up all emotions.

Crying could wait.

-

The next day, the entire group was able to hike out to where Mail had been shot. Along the entire way, they all remained in some form of stony silence that would be enough to make a stone statue seethe with jealously. Mihael was probably the worst of all those who had not been present to watch Mail's death play out before them. Instead of crying or even seeming sad, Mihael seemed furious and betrayed.

"Mail, you jackass," had been the exact words he had spoken when Alfred broke the news to them all.

The emotions of everyone else, however, were the normal emotions someone could expect: sadness and disbelief. Although they all knew death was waiting for them around every corner, they all hoped that a blanket and a teddy bear would keep it away as if it were only some monster in the closet that couldn't get them.

It's always someone else.

The area was empty of everything except the corpse of Mail. The site was even more horrific due to the fact that the body had been left to rot underneath the boiling sun. Flies and other creatures had also decided to take their part in being one of Earth's many creatures and had taken what they pleased from the corpse. The smell, however, was definitely the worse.

Matthew had vomited at the sight and the rest of the lot came dangerously close to following in his footsteps. "Oh god…" the Canadian moaned, wiping his mouth as his orbs watered. Alissa nodded in agreement as she covered her nose with her hand, tears pouring out from her chocolate brown orbs.

Mihael and Alfred volunteered to be the ones to move the body to the grave, if the rest of them promised to dig the grave.

They agreed and dug the grave upwind.

After about two hours of Alissa, Eliza, and Matthew digging with rocks, a broken shovel, and their hands, the grave seemed decent enough for a body. The work was done in grim silence and only the sounds of the wind and the creatures of the area could be heard.

"Alright…" Alissa panted, "it's ready…"

Nodding, Mihael took in a deep breath and walked over to Mail's corpse and grabbed his legs while Alfred picked the deceased boy up by the head area. At the count of three, the two boys pulled up the corpse, grunting at the effort.

"I guess they weren't joking about dead weight…" was the only thing Alfred could really say about the situation. But he was only really talking to fill up the silence, not to make a point. Struggling to keep their hold and not drop the body out of exhausting or disgust, the boys were eventually able to lug the body over the makeshift grave Matthew and company had dug.

"One, two, three," Alfred and Mihael counted in unison. At the number three, the boys released the body and watched, gagging, as it slid into the dusty grave.

Almost instantly, Alissa poured a few handfuls of dirt and gravel onto the corpse, her eyes sad and depressed.

"Does… anyone want to say some words…?" Matthew asked softly, his own voice beginning to crack.

"I do," Mihael said almost instantly, picking up a tight handful of dirt. Bravely and with a strong look to his hard blue orbs, Mihael strolled over the grave and spoke. "Mail… you were the best friend anyone could ever ask for… Not only were you fun to talk to, you could also kick ass at Sonic, which just made things even better." A small smile spread across Mihael's features. "I remember all those times you would get me out of trouble back at home… and in the shit excuse for boot camp…" A tear actually welled up in the corner of the boy's eye. "I'm…going to miss you… things just…won't be the same without your lazy ass here with us…" Mihael dropped the dirt onto the grave. "Rest in peace…brother…" he whispered before turning away.

Alfred stepped up and tossed a bit of dirt on the grave. "Dude…" he began, "you were probably the best and coolest hacker I could've ever been landed with. You got the job done and never complained about it…" Alfred sighed. "And I began to look at this lot as a family instead just a bunch of kids I had to save thanks to you… But…I guess I'm not much of a hero, huh? I mean, I tried to save you, but it just wouldn't work…"

Next came Matthew.

"Mail… I never really spent much time talking to you, or anyone really… but… you always reminded me of a braver…version of myself… someone to look up to. I always found that weird…well, because I'm older than you and all… but I… I'm not good at this kind of stuff… hopefully you'll know what I meant to say… Sleep well…" More dirt was sprinkled onto Mail's final resting spot.

"I…I don't think I'll be able to…get through this…" Alissa sobbed, staring down at the dirt covered grave. Though she was strong, Alissa was still more sensitive than most, which was never bad. "But… you were and still are my big brother, Mail." Tears rolled down the girl's face. "And I loved you…so much…you were a-always there for me… and… I can't…" With that, the girl dropped her handful of dirt and turned towards Mihael, running into his arms and instantly bursting into tears. They all envied her, however. And this was all simply because she knew how to express her emotions.

All eyes fell on Eliza who was making her way over towards the grave now, her knuckled bone white. "Mail…I love you… And… well, I guess you're with God now, where you belong. I mean, that is if there really is a God… but if heaven is real, then you deserve to go there." A tear was shed and her fists loosened so that the dirt slowly began to seep out into the grave. "Love is war, Mail… and we lost…" Suddenly her voice grew cold. "But, I promise, I'll make them pay for that, Mail. Every single one of them will know your final moments…"

-

"Well….We're home now…" Mihael whispered to Alissa as they returned to the shack. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around her. Once again, it was late and they were all exhausted from the emotional stress and the physical exhaustion of walking for so long. All of them were ready to drop dead and just sleep for hours and hours on end and pretend this was all a dream.

But this dream was a brutal reality, and nothing more. Eliza would continue to wake up with no one beside her. Mihael would wake up without a best friend; and that was reality.

As Mihael opened the door, he expected to find the hideout empty. How wrong he happened to be.

"Ah, Mihael, we meet again."

Mihael's blue eyes narrowed as they met eyes he never wanted to see ever again.

"Nate…"


End file.
